9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel (6 page)

He paused for a
moment and shook his head. “I tell you, were it not for Bastian, providence
only knows what would have happened to my sister. You might as well know that
your husband tried to marry her. We later discovered that he planned to ship
her off to a brothel in Italy, as he had done to others, and had planned to
squander her dowry.
’Twas
quite the scandal. Even
chief prosecutor, Sayers, was involved in the operation.”

“Are you telling
me that Bastian had a part in stopping the wedding?”

“He did.”

“Pray, where is my
husband now?”

“Last I heard, the
man was rotting away in Newgate. Albeit, it is now rumored he has come down
with some disease, and I would not be surprised if he has passed on.”

Passed on… What if Richard has died? Could I even resume a normal
life in London? Matthew would benefit from the advantages of it, but I would
never be well received again. However, the fact that Richard never went to look
for me might be of assistance. This is such a mess!
“Is there any way for us to verify his condition?”

Even if they did
get confirmation of his death, what did she expect to do? It was not as if she
could go back to living in her estate. She had no idea if there was a will, or
if he had bequeathed her even the smallest of their properties. Good lord,
there was simply too many things to consider, and not nearly enough time.

“Cordelia, what
has you so disturbed? What are you thinking?”

“I am only
wondering what, and if, my husband had bequeathed me. Seeing as I was assumed
dead, and he is only at his crossroads now, I hardly think that all his assets
have been obtained by the magistrate for auction.”

“I am not certain
either, though, if you were willing to come out of hiding, we should be able to
find out if anything was left to you, prior to the accident. Is that something
you would like to risk?”

A risk—that is
what all of this was. What originally had been one plan, now had been divided
into a multitude of mini tasks and assignments. She should just keep with the
original idea—invite Bastian to return to the country with her and tell him he
had a son. However, she could figure out what her entitlements were and then
retreat to the country once London realized that she had never really passed
on, but was left for dead by her wretched husband.

While she was not
in the market of looking for sympathy, if there was an opportunity to repay the
kindness of the
marquess
and his lovely wife, and of
Corinne, the second option would only be the way to do so.

“What I think, my
lord, is that running away is for cowards. I shall not run away without truly
knowing if I am returning to the country as a penniless dowager duchess. But I
shall not grovel for wealth, either. Whilst these last few months have been
hard, adjusting to the meager and pauper lifestyle, I still have my health and
my son. And both will remain the same, with or without a title.”

“If I may be so
bold, your grace. I think you are making the right decision. Though, be sure to
understand that none of this will be easy. Once London is aware of your return,
there will be scathing talk and hatred. Your husband was a vile man…”

“There is no need
to remind me of that horrid detail, my lord. I was married to him, after all.”
If there was one wish she was entitled to, she desperately hoped that her
husband had perished. She had no desire to face him ever again.

“Where do we
begin? I simply cannot walk into the estate and start ordering about the staff,
nor can I summon his solicitor and begin the process. Will you be able to
assist me with these things? You have already done so much for Matthew and I,
and I would hate to impose on you further.”

“Make no mention
of it, your grace. I will see what my man of affairs can find out for us.”

Most excellent.
Perhaps things were
beginning to look up, after all.

Chapter Five

Back in his
library, Bastian still could not believe his eyes. He called out for his
butler, and the man made use of his quick feet. “See that this is cleaned up.
And do try to get the stains out, this is my favorite shirt.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bastian passed the
elderly man his shirt and headed upstairs to his room.
Christ! She is alive after all this time.
How he longed to fuck her,
but most of all, he could not wait to hold her in his arms again.

However, there was
something different about her. In the few moments that he had managed to have a
solid look at her, she had appeared a little plumper in the breasts. Not that
he minded in the least. He would look forward to fucking those beauties in no
time, but it was perhaps the change in demeanor. Something about how she had
reacted.

Christ
.
How will the Duke of Downsbury react to learn that his wife is back
from the dead?
But wait, her husband has
been stripped of his title, and from what I heard last at Whites, it is rumored
that he has fallen ill and died. But did he?

This was all too
much to digest in such little time. He had to sleep on this and give Cordelia
time to calm down. The woman did have a wicked temper. He would wait until
tomorrow afternoon to visit the Marquess of Stoughton’s estate, assuming she
was staying with his family.

He wondered how
the marchioness felt about their guest, considering it was rumored that her first
husband the Duke of Brimley had an affair with her. He knew all too well,
however, that the man had gone to her at his behest to deliver a personal
message. Bastian knew he was not the first to fall prey to her feminine wiles,
but he knew very well that she had changed her ways once she was with him.

As soon as they
patched up this mess the two of them were in, he would look into the duke’s
state. Were it proven that the man did indeed die in Newgate, he would marry
the woman once and for all. If Downsbury still lived, then he would find
another way for them to be together.

Bastian stopped
outside his door and called down to his butler.

“Yes, my lord?”
was the response.

“Before you retire
for the evening, have one of my footmen send for my secretary in the morning. I
need for him to make some inquiries, most urgently.”

Late the next
morning, after a fitful night’s rest, Bastian readied himself before the
looking glass. He tried not to look too fashionable, as his goal was to appear
at Stoughton Hall without drawing too much attention. The last thing he wanted
was for anyone to stop him and find out why he was decked out to the nines. He
had a lady to impress, but most importantly, he had much to make up for.

“Will that be all,
my lord?”

“Yes, Cedric.
Would you ready my carriage, please? Also, I would like to have the blue room
prepared for a lady’s visit. It is my hope to return with a companion that you
have not seen in quite some time.”

“If you don’t mind
my asking, my lord, who is it that you plan to return with?”

“I cannot divulge
that information just yet Cedric, but as soon as I can, I will. The present
situation is quite delicate, and it is a matter of urgency that I continue to
keep that information guarded.”

“Very well, sir,
are you in need of anything else while I am in town? I have a list of supplies
from the cook, and if I get there early enough then, I will have the pick of
supplies.”

“Other than my
usual, I do not think I have need of anything else.”

The valet nodded
and departed the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Bastian in the
quandary of his thoughts. Would he dare tell her that he loved her? Would she
even accept that, after the horror she had been through? The only thing he
could think of was all the different ways she could tell him “no.”

Cordelia would be
in her every right to deny him such an honor, yet, he could not imagine losing
her once again. This time he would not stop until she was his. Bastian adjusted
his cravat and turned to leave his quarters. Hopefully, in a few hours, he
would be joined in them by Cordelia.

The house had been
dreadfully quiet and lonely as of late. Even despite having Daisy entertain him
here, it still did not take away the fact that she was not his Cordelia.

Nothing could
change the fact that he wanted his woman back, and he would stop at nothing. If
she rejected him today, then he would try again. Bastian would continue to ask
her until she agreed.

* * * *

Cordelia paced her
room frantic and worried that she was running out of time. In the meanwhile,
Matthew had not slept, nor had the entire household. Her son had cried non-stop
all night, eventually waking up the
marquess
’ twins.
Her hosts tried to assure her that perhaps he was teething.

A nursemaid had
brought in a dram of brandy throughout the night, advising her to dip her
finger in it and dab it on his tongue. It had helped, thought it did not make
her feel any better. Matthew was beginning to run a fever, and without medical
attention, who knew what could transpire. She could not bear the thought of
anything happening to her son.

Deep in thought,
Cordelia failed to notice that the marchioness had entered. “Dear me, Cordelia.
You look affright. Let me have one of the nursemaids take Matthew into the
nursery for a bit, so that you may rest.”

“I could not
possibly leave him with someone right now. I may have need to call for a
physician.”

The marchioness
walked over and gently squeezed her arm, smiling. “My dear, if you feel you
have need of a physician, we shall have ours drop in. Aside from a slight
fever, which I suspect is from teething, I think you will be pleasantly
surprised to hear that he is healthy. One of the other ladies I have tea with
has just gone through the same ordeal.”

Cordelia sighed
and walked over toward the window with Matthew in her arms. The lush lawn, a
vibrant shade of emerald, wisped gently in the wind. A bright yellow sun
illuminated the rolling hills behind Stoughton Hall. “Perhaps a little fresh
air will do us good,”
she whispered
to the babe.

“You know, my
lady, I think a bout of fresh air is just what I need. Perhaps once I return, I
will have a rest, if it is all the same.”

“Certainly. When
you return to the manor, have Duncan call down one of the girls. Oh, before I
forget, I have it on good authority that the Earl of Wycliffe will be dropping
by today.”

What? Why would he?

Her ladyship
continued, “From what the cook said—he is in the middle of making preparations
for a permanent house guest.”

Cordelia winced.
The man cannot possibly be thinking that I
am going to stay at his house
. She rolled her eyes, and inhaled. “It
matters not what the man is doing. When he finds out he has a son, I am most
certain he will change his mind about everything.”

“What makes you
say that? All those times we told you that he was a lost soul without you, did
you even bother to listen? That man is nothing without you!”

“That may be so,
but need I remind you that my husband might still be alive, and if he has any
inkling that I am as well, the scandal will begin all over again?”

“You worry too
much, Cordelia. Even if your title was restored—which I doubt, as the clod had
his stripped—the scandal was his alone. I am not sure what of his estates
remain, as I am sure it was all sold off. Besides, I am positive if the man is
not yet dead, he shall be soon. Which means you shall be free to marry the earl
and carry on with your life, as you intended.”

“That may be so,
but the more I think on it, do I really want to be saddled with a man? I lived
for so many years in Richard’s shadow. I do not care to be controlled again.”
That is, unless we are talking about in the
bedroom.

Cordelia’s mind
wandered to another time when the intrigue of her affair with Bastian was the
paramount highlight of her week. In hindsight, she was ashamed of her
adulterous behavior, but she would never take it back. Bastian had instilled a
passion in her which her own husband could not, even if he tried.

Enough of those dreadful memories.
“You
know what, my lady? I think now is a good time for that walk. I could use the
distraction.”

“Indeed.”

Cordelia swaddled
her son, much to his chagrin, and descended the stairs from the guest wing. She
heard men’s voices, and then she heard
his
.
She tried to slip out without being seen, but then Matthew began to cry.

When she reached
the final step, the
marquess
appeared from the
parlor. “Is everything alright, Cordelia?”

“Yes, my lord. I
was just about to go for a walk. The fresh air will do Matthew some good.”

She went to dart
past him, but he caught her by the arm. “Would you like to join us for a bit?”

“And who might be
‘us,’ my lord?”

“Wycliffe and
myself. I am sure the two of you could use some time together.”

“I appreciate the
thought, my lord, but I am in need of the air.”

His lips formed a
thin line, and he shook his head. “Well, if you change your mind, you know
where to find us.”

“Thank you, my
lord.”

Before she could
be stopped again, Cordelia dashed out a side door from the servant’s wing. And
noticed another coach approaching the house. Ignoring the visitor, she walked
until she found a glorious apple tree to sit under. She loosened the blanket
around Matthew and found that the child had fallen asleep.

Perhaps if I close my eyes for a few moments…
Cordelia found every muscle in her body relaxing, and her eyes
weighed heavily.
Just a small nap…

* * * *

“Who is Matthew?
That is not your son’s name…”

“No, it is not.”

“Then whose child
is Matthew?”

“You should speak
to Cordelia. The two of you have much to discuss. Besides, ’tis not my tale to
tell.”

Bastian’s stomach
flipped.
Who does the child belong to?
Why is it not it Thompson’s story to tell? What the hell is Cordelia keeping
from me?
There were too many questions and not enough answers. “Pray,
answer me one question. Did I father that child?”

The sudden
possibility that he was a father all this time frightened him. And to make
matters worse, he had not been there to assist her or bond with the child.
Fortunately enough for him, he could make up for lost time.

“Bastian, you have
to remember that she has been away all this time for safety. What do you think
Downsbury would do if he knew his wife was still alive? Even after trying to
marry my sister and all. She probably knows by now how deep in scandal he was.
From what I understand, she has meaning to talk to you, but the opportunity had
not been presented.”

The
marquess
paused and rose to pour them a drink. “I can say
this, though, from what I know, she may not want to stay in London even after
saying her peace.”

Not that Bastian
could blame her, but how could she not mention this to him before? He could not
imagine the burden she had carried all this time. Alone, scared, and completely
out of her element. She had spent so many of her years in a privileged society,
and then all of it had been taken away so cruelly in an accident.

He would not blame
her if his question sent her running back to a village. Perhaps, if she agreed
to his proposal then he would relocate to the country. Cordelia could have her
peace, scandal free, and he would be happy just to have her, in any way he could.

“The lady may have
wanted to avoid me, but I am going to make sure we talk now. I hope you will
excuse me, Thompson? The lady and I have much to discuss.” Bastian approached
the door when someone knocked.

“How funny,” the
marquess
quoted behind him. “I was not expecting anyone
else.”

The butler opened
the door to reveal a very irritated Mary Elizabeth. Her arms were crossed, and
she wore a scowl.

“Christ Almighty!”
Bastian grumbled under his breath.

“Lord Wycliffe, I
have been searching high and low for you. I cannot believe for one moment you
would cast me aside so.”

Bastian sighed and
shot his friend a weary glance. “I will take care of this. Can you have one of
the servants see Cordelia home? Send her on by tonight for dinner. I want to
talk first before I am introduced to my son…if he is indeed my son.” The
marquess
nodded and walked away.

“Mary Elizabeth,
this is not at all proper. You are behaving irrationally! Come away from here.”
Bastian grabbed her hand and dragged her back to the hackney. “You called it
off, remember? I have no desire to rekindle or revisit our prior arrangement…if
one could even call it as such.”